


My choice is you

by candelina



Series: a witcher’s life between destiny and choices [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Choices, Destiny, Domestic Bliss, Feelings, Fix-It, Fluff, Geraskier, M/M, What-If, but it can stand alone, they go to the coast, this was originally a bonus chapter of my previous fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:41:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25752994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candelina/pseuds/candelina
Summary: Geralt doesn’t let him finish his phrase before throwing him in the sea. The water isn’t deep here, but he knows Jaskier will not get hurt.The bard resurfaces a few seconds later with a loud gasp and coughs. “YOU–!” He points his finger accusingly and Geralt wonders if he really thinks he looks intimidating. “Look at my clothes! I’m all soaked now and– and you–! You’re insufferable!”Geralt just smiles at him. “And yet, here we are.”That makes Jaskier relax and his outraged expression turns into a wide, delighted grin. He shakes his head with a chuckle. “Yes. Here we are.”Again, Geralt’s chest has an odd reaction to that sound. He looks away as the bard walks towards him. “We… should go back now. Or you’ll catch a cold.”*Or*Multiverse is a thing and in this universe Geralt and Jaskier live a happy life after they decide to go to the coast. Of course this means dealing with feelings and some domestic fluff.[although this work is related to the first part of the series (Choose your destiny), you don’t need to read it to understand this]
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: a witcher’s life between destiny and choices [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1863424
Comments: 16
Kudos: 117





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's me again, your candelina.
> 
> My previous fic has received a lot of love and I decided to dedicate a new work about my AU!Geraskier. If you have read the fic you know what I'm talking about, but if you haven't that's no problem because this is basically just an AU in which Geralt and Jaskier go to the coast together (*gasp*). And this chapter deals with the first day of their new life.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

***

The sea breeze fills his nostrils even before the endless expanse of water come into view.

At the top of the hill, Geralt watches as the blue and the white of the waves meet the sand of the long beach.

“Woah! Isn’t it beautiful, Geralt?”

Next to him, the bard has an excited smile on his face, a sparkle in his eyes – brighter and bluer than the sea – and his skilled fingers are fidgeting on the strings of his lute. Jaskier is beaming.

“Hmm.” _Yes. Beautiful._

“Let’s go to the beach! It’s been ages since I’ve come to the coast.” He runs down the hill without waiting, without looking if the witcher is following. He doesn’t have to. He knows he will.

Geralt smiles, holding Roach’s reins in one hand as the two of them start walking behind him.

_“Look, why don't we leave tomorrow?”_

_Geralt didn’t even blink. Jaskier came out with such absurd ideas sometimes._

_“We could head to the coast.”_

_He wanted to scoff. What was the bard thinking? That they could just go on holiday somewhere?_

_“Get away for a while.”_

_It’s ridiculous. He’s ridiculous. An annoying, loud, foolish, ridiculous idiot._

_Geralt turned to him, ready to voice those thoughts._

_But then, a gentle breeze blew and carried with it a sweet scent of honey and… flowers._

_He didn’t realize he had closed his eyes until he reopened them again and was met by Jaskier’s wide blue pools, which were now only a few inches away from him. And so were Jaskier’s rosy lips._

_Geralt didn’t speak. He didn’t even think anymore._

_He leaned forward and closed the gap between them._

A splash of water hits his face.

A warm, familiar laughter reaches his ears and fills his heart.

“Oh, Geralt, you should see yourself right now!”

Jaskier laughs and splashes him again while Roach neighs behind them on the beach. Geralt has freed her from the saddle and she looks rather happy now. He has also taken his own armour off before joining the bard and putting his feet in the cold, refreshing seawater.

Now, as people should always wisely remember, you never challenge a witcher and get away with it.

Jaskier has proven – in more situations than Geralt would have liked – that he’s far from wise. Especially when it comes to danger and… witchers.

Geralt has managed to get his hair and trousers all soaked because of him – and now his shirt, too. But he’s about to get his revenge.

“You can’t even fight back, can you?” He’s being all smug now, not even trying to hide his smirk. “I must say I’m disappointed, Geralt. I expected something more from a strong witcher who’s all muscle and– wait, what are you–”

He tries to run away, but it’s too late. Geralt charges the bard, grabs his waist and throws him on his shoulder with little effort.

“GERALT! Put me down, you beast!” Jaskier screams, but the witcher can hear the amusement in his voice.

 _Always so dramatic._ Well, Geralt knows how to deal with that. “You want me to put you down, bard?”

“Yes, that’s what I said! Now, please, do it! But do it gent–”

Geralt doesn’t let him finish his phrase before throwing him in the sea. The water isn’t deep here, but he knows Jaskier will not get hurt.

The bard resurfaces a few seconds later with a loud gasp and coughs. “YOU–!” He points his finger accusingly and Geralt wonders if he really thinks he looks intimidating. “Look at my clothes! I’m all soaked now and– and you–! You’re insufferable!”

Geralt just smiles at him. “And yet, here we are.”

That makes Jaskier relax and his outraged expression turns into a wide, delighted grin. He shakes his head with a chuckle. “Yes. Here we are.”

Again, Geralt’s chest has an odd reaction to that sound. He looks away as the bard walks towards him. “We… should go back now. Or you’ll catch a cold.”

But Jaskier is right there now, in front of him, very close and his usual scent has mixed with briny seawater and it feels–

“Geralt…”

“OI! YOU TWO! GET AWAY FROM THE WATER!”

They turn their heads in the direction of the beach, where an old man is yelling and waving at them frantically.

“YOU’LL GET KILLED IF YOU DON’T MOVE!”

Geralt frowns and squares his shoulders, already alert, though his medallion hasn’t detected any danger. They decide to follow the stranger’s advice and get out of the sea.

The man – who has a long white beard and is dressed in a way that makes Geralt think he’s a fisherman – seems to calm down a bit and approaches them. “You’re travellers, right? You must have just come here if you don’t know about the monster yet.”

“Monster?” Jaskier asks, without hiding his interest.

The old fisherman frowns at him. “Yeah. It’s a giant octopus that’s been around here for weeks! It destroyed our boats and even some of the houses that where closer to the shore. We can’t go fishing anymore and don’t know what to do if that bastard doesn’t go away.”

The bard’s smile widens and he claps his hands as if he’s about to make an important announcement. “Well, dear fellow, do not fret because we have the solution to your problem right… here!”

The white-bearded man follows the movement of his hands as he gestures towards Geralt. It takes a few moments for the fisherman to realize. When he does, his eyes widen and he takes a step back. “He… you are…”

“The one and only Geralt of Rivia, famous witcher and monster killer! There’s no creature that he can’t handle, believe me, I saw him fight many times and he always won even against the most dangerous beasts you can think of!” Jaskier states, with his usual confidence and ease.

Geralt sighs. He knows he should’ve expected this. There’s no peace for a witcher. Not even to the coast.

“You’re saying…” the old man starts, after recovering from his initial shock, “you could kill the octopus?”

“Not only he could. He _will_. Right, Geralt?”

The bard turns to him, cornflower blue eyes shining in excitement and how is Geralt supposed to say ‘no’ to him? 

“Hm.” He says and nods slightly to the fisherman, who still looks a bit suspicious.

“What’s your price?”

Geralt opens his mouth to reply. He’s used to handle conversations when it comes to contracts, but this time Jaskier beats him to it.

“Oh, don’t worry about that. May I ask you one thing, though?”

The old man looks at the bard and raises a brow. “What is it?”

“Do you know, by any chance, who that lovely house there belongs to?” He points with his fingers at what looks like an old wooden construction located at the end of a dock, which seems to be equally abandoned.

“That was an old fisherman’s house. He and his wife lived there, but after they died no one has ever come here. Especially now, with the dangerous octopus.”

Jaskier smiles and politely thanks the man, but Geralt recognizes a certain hint of mischief in his eyes that makes him wonder what the bard is up to. He remains silent, though, and simply watches the two exchange a few more words and information before the fisherman turns around and walks back to the village.

Once he’s out of earshot, Geralt turns to Jaskier. “Good job. Now I’ve to kill a monster for free.”

The bard has even the courage to roll his eyes. “Come on, Geralt. Think of the opportunity we have here!” He must understand the expression on the witcher’s face – which he would usually define as ‘grumpy’ – because then he goes on, “This is a new place for us. People don’t know you and if you help them without asking for anything in exchange they’ll see the good person you are!” 

Geralt snorts, but Jaskier ignores him.

“Of course I’ll help as well, with my songs. I’m going to compose a new one about this latest adventure of ours!”

 _Of course_.

“And we won’t even have to pay for an inn. We can just use that house there.” He gestures again towards the place, which looks more like shack than a house from where they stand.

Geralt stares at him, more serious this time. The bard really thought about everything, didn’t he? And maybe he’s not even wrong. “Hmm.”

Jaskier must interpret that sound as a victory because his pleading look turns into a smug grin and he exclaims, “Great! Let’s go!”

Geralt knows there’s no more room for argument.

***

The house is not so terrible inside. Sure, it’s messy, dusty and there holes here and there in the walls and the ceiling, but nothing that can’t be fixed. They have stayed in much worse places.

Geralt puts his bag down and picks up a chair from the floor, while Jaskier has already gone to explore the rest of the house – not that there’s much to explore. In fact, he comes back not long after.

“Okay, so, besides this room there are a bedroom and a bathroom, where I even found bathtub!” He announces, with a proud smile on his face. “I think it’s lovely. Needs some work, but it has a great potential to become a wonderful house.”

“Hm.” Geralt doesn’t know what else to say. He wouldn’t mind to settle here with the bard for the time being, though he’s not sure what that means. He’s still trying to figure out this new, strange, warm feeling that woke in his chest when they came to the sea. He wonders if Jaskier feels it, too.

Speaking of which, he notices that Jaskier is now on the other side of the room, next to the window and with his back turned to the witcher, and he seems busy with inspecting something that looks like a place to cook.

The Sun was high in the cloudless sky today, so they’re almost dry now – even after playing like kids in the sea – but their clothes are still a bit wet. Everything felt quite normal while they were outside. Jaskier looked happy and excited as always, while Geralt was enjoying the newfound calm and peace, until someone told them that there was a monster which needed to be dealt with. So, yeah, apparently nothing felt out of the ordinary.

Except now that they’re here, in a closed space, Geralt can sense it without mistake. The tension between them. A tension that has been there since…

“Jaskier.”

As if to confirm his theory, the bard’s shoulders tense slightly and he doesn’t turn around when he replies. “Yes, Geralt?”

Geralt doesn’t like that he can’t see Jaskier’s eyes. “Look at me.”

With a sigh, he finally turns. He keeps his head slightly bowed and fidgets with his fingers nervously. “Listen, Geralt, we don’t have to talk about it.” He doesn’t sound very certain. 

So, Geralt was right. He raises a brow at him. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“Well, I…” Jaskier tries to smile, but it comes out forced. Then, as expected, he starts blabbering, “I understand. I mean, to be honest, I didn’t even dare to hope that you’d actually come with me when I said that we could go to the coast together. It was just a suggestion and you… I know you have been through a lot lately and I know you regret kissing me, but it’s all right. Yeah, I just thought it’d be good for you to take some time and relax. I didn’t expect you to take me seriously, but… but we’re here, together, and… it’s enough, really. More than.”

Geralt furrows his brows. Is that really what Jaskier thinks? Gods, the bard is an idiot. And maybe Geralt is even a bigger one. “I don’t regret it.”

Jaskier stares at him with wide eyes that are like two oceans suddenly filled with hope. “You… you don’t?”

“No.” Geralt states, trying to convey the message that he means it. He needs Jaskier to understand. But he also needs to be sure that they’re on the same page. “What about you?”

“Oh, Geralt.” Jaskier shakes his head as chuckles light-heartedly and his cheeks look… flushed?

Then, as if drawn by an invisible power, they both take a step forward. And then another, and suddenly Geralt can feel the human heat radiating from Jaskier’s body right in front of him. His scent is also stronger and it fills the witcher’s nostrils along with the smell of the sea and old wood.

The bard’s heartbeat quickens. He licks his lips as he gazes at Geralt and then whispers. “I want you to kiss me again. Would you like that?”

 _Yes_. “Jaskier–”

“AAAAAAAH! IT’S BACK!”

The sudden screams startle them both and make Jaskier jump. Geralt scowls.

“EVERYONE GET AWAY! NOW!”

“Uh, Geralt,” this time the bard looks at him with slight concern in his eyes, “I think it’s…”

“THE MONSTER’S HERE! RUN!”

“That.” Jaskier nods towards the door. Outside, the sound of the waves grows louder and more threatening, as if there’s a storm, and they can also hear people yell and cry in fear. “Come on, this is your time to shine.”

Geralt lets out a dark growl and picks his sword up.

***

A monster that disturbs a witcher in a rare and intimate moment can’t hope to live for a long time. Or even a short time.

It takes Geralt only three strikes with his sword to kill it. Unfortunately, he also gets hit in the process by one of the enormous tentacles that throws him into sea. He hasn’t had time to put on his armour, so the blow will probably hurt more, but at least he manages to swim to the shore.

Soaked and out of breath, Geralt crawls on the sand, gripping his sword tightly.

“Geralt!”

Jaskier’s voice reaches him and a second later the bard is crouching beside him.

“Are you hurt?”

Geralt shakes his head and then Jaskier slides an arm around his waist to help him get on his feet. As they head towards the little house, Geralt can vaguely make out some figures on the beach.

“They all saw what you did. The villagers.” Jaskier tells him and he sounds… proud. “Look at their faces, Geralt! They’re amazed!”

The witcher sighs and is about to disagree when all of a sudden the people who are looking at them burst into applause. They start yelling and waving enthusiastically like they are… cheering _him_?

At his side, the bard beams. “You’re a hero now, Geralt.”

“Hm.” Geralt doesn’t understand why these people have stayed to watch him fight or why they aren’t totally disgusted or frightened or anything. He suspects Jaskier has something to do with that, but he just smiles at him and says nothing.

***

“Believe me, Geralt, they can’t wait to meet you!”

The witcher lets out another grunt and runs his callous hands on his own bare biceps. He’s sitting in the tub which Jaskier has filled with warm water and some of those bath oils of his – the bard has probably figured out already that he enjoys them, even though Geralt hasn’t told him yet.

“I’m not kidding! I’ve talked to Berta, whose husband owns the local tavern, and she personally invited us to go there. She said they’d give us a free meal and ale! They all want to thank you for what you did, especially the fishermen, and I also promised that I’d perform my songs tonight. We _have_ to go.”

Geralt doesn’t know when Jaskier had the time to meet and talk with those people or how he can be so sure that they would very kindly welcome a witcher, but he has always had a hard time saying no to Jaskier when he’s so insistent and smells so nice – wait, the last part has nothing to do with it (or, does it?). In the end, he replies with an affirmative noise, which is enough to make the bard’s face light up.

“Great! Now, let me help you with that tangled mess that is your hair.” Jaskier grimaces as he points at the witcher’s wet silver head and goes to sit on a small stool behind him. Geralt snorts, but he doesn’t protest.

Again, he has never told Jaskier that likes to feel his soft, skilled hands in his hair, massaging his scalp, but he thinks the bard must know it. After all, it’s not hard to notice how Geralt relaxes instantly, lowering his guard for the time being as he closes his eyes and leans into the touch.

The room is quiet, but only for a few seconds because soon it is filled by a soft humming.

Geralt opens his golden eyes just slightly to look up at Jaskier. When he meets his blue eyes, the bard stops and bites his lower lip.

“What is it?”

“You’re composing.” Geralt states simply.

“Well, of course I am, dear witcher.” Jaskier’s hands keep scratching his companion’s head gently as he explains, “This is a golden opportunity, I can feel it. I’m going to write my best song about this day!”

“Hmm.” Geralt’s eyes close again at the same time he feels his lips curve slightly in a tiny smile. “Did you think of a title?”

“I have a couple of ideas.” Jaskier replies. “The Hero of The Coast, or… the White Wolf’s Retirement.”

Geralt can’t help but chuckle and thinks that there’s nowhere else he’d like to be.

***

They do go to the village later and Geralt decides to leave Roach at the local stable, where she can be more comfortable, before they head for the tavern.

To the witcher’s genuine surprise, when they walk in, people actually look like they… don’t mind seeing them.

They are soon greeted by the owner and his wife. The woman spreads her arms in a welcoming manner as she approaches them, followed by the middle-aged man.

“Ah, Jaskier! I’m so glad you could make it, boys!”

“There he is! The hero of the day!”

Jaskier grins charmingly at them. “Berta! Igor! Thank you for your wonderful welcome, we wouldn’t have missed tonight for the world.”

“Remember you promised to sing for us, bard.” The man – Igor – looks rather excited and like everyone else, he seems ready to celebrate.

As soon as he finishes to speak, though, the woman – Berta – wipes the smile from her husband’s face by smacking the back of his head. “Quit being so rude, you old man! These are the people who helped us, they don’t have to do anything tonight but enjoy themselves.”

Igor grumbles something while rubbing the spot where she hit him.

Berta ignores him and speaks to Jaskier, even though she clearly refers to Geralt as well, “We’ll be eternally grateful for what your witcher has done, but for now please accept what our humble cuisine can offer. On the house, of course.”

“You are a real treasure, dear Berta.” Jaskier replies as he takes the middle-aged woman’s hand and kisses the back of it.

“And such a gentleman you are. I know _someone_ who could learn a lot for you.” She turns to her husband and glares at him.

He snorts and shakes his head as he turns around to go back to the kitchen. 

How the bard can already be so familiar with these two Geralt doesn’t know, nor he’s interested in knowing. He remains quiet as Berta leads them to a table where they sit down, waiting for the food. Not long after, a young waitress brings them two mugs filled with ale.

“For our heroes.” She says and giggles when Jaskier winks at her in response.

After she’s gone, Geralt notices a change in the mood inside the tavern. There’s less noise and patrons are all staring at him and Jaskier.

A dark-haired man – not old, but not quite young either – stands from his table, taking his own mug of ale with him, and walks quietly towards them. He’s well built and has a few scars on his hands. 

_A fisherman_ , Geralt thinks, since that also seems to be the most common profession around here.

He glances at Jaskier, but then his coffee eyes shift to Geralt.

“I’ve heard they call you the White Wolf. What’s your real name, witcher?”

“Geralt of Rivia.”

The man gives one short nod and turns to look at the people sitting around them. He lifts his mug in the air in an almost solemn gesture and exclaims, “To Geralt of Rivia! The Octopus Killer and Hero of The Village!”

“TO GERALT OF RIVIA!”

The chorus fills the tavern, breaking the tension, as men and women of all age lift their mugs and burst into cheers.

Geralt can only watch, dumbfounded, and not quite understanding what is happening. Next to him, he can feel Jaskier beaming.

Then, the dark-haired stranger turns to him again, this time with a joyful grin on his face. “My friends and I want to thank you personally. We’re all fishermen and with that monster around we couldn’t do our job anymore. Let us buy you the next round of drinks, yeah?”

“Uh…” Geralt doesn’t know what to say. In his life as a witcher, there have been a few – rare – times in which people offered him something out of pure gratitude. He can count those times using only one hand. But this. This is different. He’s in the tavern of a village far from anything else and it’s filled with people who are applauding _him_. They’re all celebrating thanks to what he has done, and they know and acknowledge it without shame.

“Your offer is very much welcome, my friend.” He hears Jaskier answering for him and the man nods politely before going back to the table with his companions.

Then, the bard turns to him. “Isn’t this great, Geralt? Are you happy that I insisted on coming here tonight?”

“Hmm.” is all Geralt manages in that moment, before he starts drinking his ale.

The atmosphere is much more relaxed after that. They drink and eat in peace, and Geralt finds himself more at ease. He begins to enjoy this evening and also the way people smile at him rather than looking suspicious and all that.

Of course, at some point, Jaskier grabs his lute and stands from their table, flashing Geralt a warm smile before announcing that he’s about to “give the performance everyone has been waiting for”.

Geralt snorts, but the patrons seem to be enthusiastic. They listen carefully to Jaskier’s songs. And so does Geralt, even though he already knows every single one of them. Yet, every time he sings, the bard manages to wake a nice feeling in his chest.

While Jaskier is busy entertaining his new audience, some of the fishermen invite themselves at Geralt’s table and buy him more than one round of drinks. They even start to chat with him and his short and monosyllabic replies don’t seem to bother them.

“You must come fishing with us. I bet we can catch any fish with your help.”

“Hm.”

“I mean, you can’t go to the tavern every day. And you’ll have to eat something, yeah? The fish here is delicious but, believe me, it’s even better if you’re the one who caught it.”

“All right. I’ll think about it.” Geralt promises.

The fishermen seem to be satisfied enough with that and they nod, before turning to watch Jaskier sing like everyone else in the tavern.

“He’s good.” One of them says. “It must be interesting to travel with someone like him.” 

“Hmm.” _Interesting_ is not exactly the word Geralt would use, but he never gets tired of listening to the bard and watching how he moves in every room he performs.

“Nice voice. He does have talent.”

“Yeah.” Geralt concedes, as he continues to look at Jaskier with a fond smile and soft gaze. “He’s like… a little lark.”

Jaskier chooses that moment to turn towards their table and their eyes meet. A flash of something like surprise crosses the bard’s features and he bites his lip, as if trying to make a decision. It only lasts few seconds because then he winks at Geralt and resumes his song, unaware of the witcher’s heart fluttering in response.

Eventually, it gets late and people start going back to their homes.

Jaskier and Geralt bid everyone a good night with the promise of visiting the tavern more often while they stay nearby.

Jaskier speaks about how amazing the audience was tonight and the millions of ideas for his new ballad but Geralt notices that he’s not as talkative as usual. As they approach the small house at the end of the old dock, a comfortable silence falls between them.

After they get inside, Jaskier lights a candle that he places on the table at the centre of the main room. The bright moonlight would be enough to see, even this late at night, but Geralt is glad that the bard decided to use the candle because he likes the way it illuminates his features.

Jaskier _is_ a beautiful man. And he’s also smarter than he tries to appear. 

That’s probably why it doesn’t take long for him to notice the way Geralt is looking at him.

“Are you going to keep staring at me like you were doing in the tavern?” He says with a hint of amusement in his lovely voice. But there’s also something in those stunning blue eyes that sparkle in anticipation. A gaze so open and full of alluring promises.

And Geralt has restrained himself quite long enough.

He takes the first step towards him without even realizing it and he doesn’t stop until he’s right in front of Jaskier, who is leaning against the table behind him. He has already taken his doublet off and his chemise is loosened, leaving his neck completely exposed as well as part of his shoulder and chest.

Geralt can hear the bard’s heartbeat quicken as he places both hands next to his sides and suddenly Jaskier’s scent becomes stronger. It’s like part of Jaskier’s essence fills him with the smell of honey and flowers, sea breeze and soap, ale and old wood.

“Geralt…”

His gentle voice wakes him from his little reverie – Geralt is glad that Jaskier isn’t a siren because otherwise the way he calls his name would’ve got him killed already. Only then the witcher realizes he has closed his eyes.

When he reopens them he’s met by his favourite sea of blue.

“Jaskier…” Geralt licks his own lips and enjoys the way the bard’s name tastes on his tongue. But there’s so much more that he wants to taste, he doesn’t know where to begin. “I want to kiss you.”

“Please.” 

It comes out more eager than Jaskier would have probably liked, but Geralt enjoys hearing it. He allows himself a fond smirk and then leans closer until there’s no more space between their mouths.

It starts slowly, because neither of them is in a hurry. They both want to savour every moment, every movement of one’s lips against the other’s. 

The world is still around them as they begin to deepen the kiss, opening their mouths more so that their tongues can meet as well.

Jaskier’s hands find their way on Geralt’s chest almost at the same time as the witcher’s hands settle on the bard’s hips. Then, Geralt pulls away just slightly, so he can focus on _more_ of Jaskier. He brushes his lips against his jaw and down his neck, where he buries his face and inhales.

 _Gods_ , he has wanted this for too long.

“Fuck. Jaskier, you smell so good.”

The bard moves his hand to Geralt’s head and his fingers through his silver hair. “Keep going.”

The witcher doesn’t need to be told twice. “As you wish, little lark.”

He starts nibbling Jaskier’s soft skin, delicately at first, and then bites harder a few times, drawing beautiful chirps from his bird.

“Geralt– ah– I love when you call me like that. I heard you at the tavern, you know. I just… I didn’t know what to make of it.” Jaskier hums appreciatively as his wolf begins to lick the skin where he left his marks.

“I’ll make sure to call you like that more often.” Geralt looks back at Jaskier and smiles, leaning forward to brush their noses against each other.

There are light touches and hands that want to explore more, smells that mix, and the sound of soft and small kisses that fills the room.

Then, the bard presses their foreheads together and murmurs, “Did I tell you that Zofia has provided us with a new mattress and clean sheets?”

“Is that so?” Geralt has no idea who Zofia is, but he thinks he might like her already. His hardening cock is certainly grateful.

“Yes. So, now…” Jaskier – the little bastard, being well aware of his erection – leans close to his ear and whispers, “there’s a soft, warm bed waiting for us in the other room.”

“Hmm.” He tightens his grip on the bard’s waist. “And what do you want me to do with that?”

“I want you to take me there.”

 _Oh, yes._ Geralt really likes the sound of that. “Will you sing for me if I do, little lark?”

“My darling witcher,” Jaskier’s hand tugs his hair slightly to make him look at him as a mischievous smirk appears on the bard’s face, “I’ll give you my best performance ever.”

***

They both keep their promises.

Geralt lifts Jaskier in his arms and takes him to bed. And then, Jaskier sings for him – and _because of_ him – for the whole night.

It’s a lovely song, which Jaskier confesses he has been wanting to sing for Geralt since many years ago.

Geralt tells him that he wants to listen to it again and again and for as long as Jaskier is willing to sing it. He also admits that he doesn’t like the idea of his little lark singing it for anyone else.

Jaskier laughs and kisses him.

***


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. I can't believe I managed to finish this so soon!
> 
> What can I say? I just love these two.

***

The noise of seagulls is the first thing that reaches his ears. 

Then, the waves – which sound is gentle and not very far. It’s calm. _The sea. The coast._

Geralt blinks slowly and begins to take in his surroundings.

Jaskier is sprawled practically over him, with his head on his shoulder and his slender arm across the witcher’s broad chest. He also has a satisfied smile, a peaceful expression, on his face. And they’re both very naked. _A dream._

This can only be a dream and Geralt doesn’t want to wake up. Ever again.

He hears a slight moan and notices that Jaskier is starting to wake up as well. He shifts a little bit and lifts his head just enough to look up at Geralt. Blue eyes meet his and the bard’s smile brightens.

“Good morning, darling.”

From this angle, Geralt can also see the marks he left on Jaskier’s skin the night before. It makes him feel very pleased and he returns the smile with no hesitation. “Morning, little lark.”

Jaskier places one kiss on his shoulder, then one on his cheek and finally on his lips.

“I never dared to hope this could happen.” 

He whispers so quietly that Geralt isn’t sure if he’s meant to hear it. He isn’t sure about a lot of things. Why he decided to come to the coast. What he’s doing here with Jaskier.

All he knows is that he feels… good.

He brings his hand up to cup Jaskier’s face, and then rubs his thumb delicately on his cheek. He’d like to say something, but words always fail him and he doesn’t want to ruin this moment. He’s about to return the bard’s kiss when they hear some bustle outside.

Jaskier tries to sit up, but he whines a little and Geralt smirks to himself. He kisses his little lark’s temple and gets up, walking towards the window.

There are boats in the sea, not far from the shore. As they approach the old dock, Geralt can make out a few of the men on board. Those are the fishermen from last night.

“So, your new friends came to pick you up?” He hears Jaskier’s voice behind him, as the bard carefully stands up, wrapping his body in one of the sheets.

Geralt tries to glare at him, but that sight of Jaskier is too adorable and he fails miserably.

“You should go with them.” His little lark tells him gently, “You could have a good time, while you fetch us something to eat.”

“Hm.” It’s not like he has other plans for today. Besides, if he and Jaskier are going to stay here for an unspecified amount of time, he’ll have to find a way to earn food – one that doesn’t involve killing monsters. Come to think of it, it wouldn’t be much different from hunting dinner when they’re in the woods far away from any town.

“But… maybe wear something first?” Jaskier says, interrupting his thoughts, as he trails a finger on Geralt’s bare chest.

“Why?” The witcher arches a brow with a small smile on his face, “Does it bother you?”

“That other people see you naked? Only a little.”

Geralt chuckles and pulls him in an open-mouthed kiss. 

Then, he dresses and heads outside, where he’s greeted by the fishermen waiting for him on their boats. They explain to him a few things since he’s not used to this kind of activity, and he learns quickly. Grabbing one of the long fishing nets, he shoots a glance at the wooden house which grows smaller and smaller in the distance, before focusing on his work.

At first, he thought it’d feel a bit strange hunting – or, in this case fishing, but the principle is the same – with other people after spending many decades doing it alone and just for himself, and then also for Jaskier when he came along.

But the way these men talk with each other, joke and laugh is something that somehow reminds him of the winters spent in Kaer Morhen with his brothers and his old mentor. There’s one particularly old sailor on one of the boats – who only talks when he needs to advise the younger men and comment on how they’re working – and he has a vaguely familiar aura of authority, which makes Geralt think of Vesemir. All the other fishermen seem to have great respect and admiration for him. Geralt wonders if he’s to them what the old witcher has been to Geralt. And suddenly, he finds himself considering that he might not be so different from them, at least in that aspect.

They spend the whole morning on board and some of them decide to continue, but others prefer to go back to have lunch with their families, especially the youngest. Geralt chooses to go with them. He has already caught enough fish for him and Jaskier for today, and he has no reason to stay any longer.

When they reach the shore the sea is still calm, the sun is high in the sky and there are only a few white clouds. It’s a nice day. The men are clearly in high spirits, happy that they’re finally able to do their job without fear and go back home with food to eat or sell. They all say goodbye and tell Geralt that they’ll wait for him again tomorrow.

Geralt just nods and then turns to cross the creaking dock. A melody coming from a familiar instrument reaches his ears even before he arrives in front of the house. _A new song_.

“Geralt!” Jaskier stops playing to greet him when he walks in. He carefully places his lute down on the chair where he was sitting. “So, how was it? Did you have fun?”

“Hm.” Geralt thinks for a moment. “It was… not bad.”

“Well, that’s a good start!” Jaskier smiles brightly at him and points at the sack full of fish that he’s holding. “Looks like we both had a productive morning. Now, sit down and relax while I set the table.”

Before Geralt can say something else, the bard grabs the sack from his grip and disappears in the kitchen. The witcher can still see him because there’s no door that separates the two rooms, and Jaskier looks already busy with cutting the fish, so Geralt simply does as he was told and sits on a chair.

He tries to meditate, closing his eyes as different thoughts begin to cross his mind. He lets them come and go. _He should go to the village later to visit Roach; he needs to find somewhere to put his armour, which he hasn’t used for an entire day and he doesn’t know when he will next; his sword needs to be sharpened; he should look for a blacksmith while he’s at the village; considering how yesterday and this morning went, he might be able to adjust to this life on the coast better than expected; how long will he stay here; what about the Law of Surprise; and the Child; he feels good when he doesn’t think about it; should he think about it; and then there’s Jaskier; Jaskier…_

A tune is being hummed softly in the other room. Geralt opens his eyes again. Silently, he stands from the chair and follows the melody, like a sailor who can’t help but get closer to an enchanting voice in the middle of sea to reach for something that he can’t have.

He’s facing the bard’s back, but he can tell by his movements that he’s cutting and preparing the fish to eat. Jaskier probably doesn’t become aware of the witcher’s closeness until Geralt wraps his arms around his waist, hugging him from behind.

He stops humming but doesn’t flinch. There’s only a hint of surprise and curiosity in voice when he speaks, “Geralt?”

“Just… felt like touching you.” Geralt mumbles, as he rests his chin on Jaskier’s shoulder. Then, another thought occurs to him. Geralt likes this, _wants_ this, but he also needs to know… “Is this all right?”

“Oh, darling, this is more than all right.” Jaskier turns around slowly in his embrace and looks at him with eyes twinkle like the sea this morning reflecting the sunlight. He lifts his hand to cup the witcher’s cheek, smiling at him sweetly. “No offence, but you’re such an idiot sometimes.”

Geralt scowls at the last sentence, but then Jaskier leans in and kisses that expression away, replacing it with a much more content one.

Geralt is torn between kissing him again and asking about the tune he was humming, but he doesn’t have to make that decision because suddenly, they hear a knock on the door.

They exchange a questioning look before going to see who it is. 

As Geralt opens the door, they’re met by the sight of two women – both in their thirties and dressed in very fine clothes – who smile at them politely.

“Zofia!”

“Hello, Jaskier! How are you today? I hope we aren’t disturbing you at this hour.”

“Not at all, my dear. It’s very nice to see you again.” Jaskier offers her a kind smile and turns to look at the other woman. “And I assume this beautiful lady is…”

“My wife, Tekla. She really wanted to meet you and Geralt The Hero.” Zofia explains. “Tekla, this is Jaskier.”

“Uh, hello!” The slightly smaller and probably younger woman waves shyly at them.

“Charmed!” Jaskier says, as he bows dramatically. Then, he turns to the witcher, “Geralt, this is Zofia, the seamstress who I’ve talked you about. Remember?”

“Hm.” He does remember that name.

“But– oh, how rude of me! Forgive my manners, dear ladies. Please, come in and sit down. Would you like to stay for lunch?”

“It’d be a pleasure, but we don’t want to bother you.”

“Don’t worry about it. I was just preparing the fish Geralt caught this morning and there’s enough for everyone!”

There’s something in the way Jaskier says it that makes Geralt’s heart swell with pride.

“Oh, well, in that case…”

They all get inside the house and the bard gestures their guests to sit down at the table.

“Uhm, we… brought some bread.” The shy woman – Tekla – says as she lifts the basket she’s carrying to show what’s in it.

“That’s really kind of you. You didn’t have to.” Jaskier smiles at her gently, then he goes to the kitchen.

“I wish we could do more, actually.” Zofia says, and it takes Geralt a moment to realize that she’s talking with him. “You saved our village.”

Geralt isn’t sure what to reply. The truth is that it was one of the easiest hunt of his life, so he doesn’t really feel like he has done that much. “It was… nothing.”

“It was _everything_. For many people. So, the least we can do is to thank you.” 

Both women are looking at him now, their eyes full of immense gratitude. This time, the witcher just nods and follows the bard to help him bring the plates of food to the other room.

When the four of them are sitting all together, Zofia speaks again, “Anything you need to dress yourself, like chemises, shirts, trousers, boots, underwear, and _more_ , don’t hesitate to ask!”

“You really are too kind, Zofia. I’ll make sure to visit your shop.” Jaskier promises her. “What colours do you have for shirts?”

Geralt watches them talk about clothes and other stuff with a small smile tugging his lips, while he begins to eat. For the rest of the lunch, Jaskier and Zofia keep most of the conversation and Tekla joins in occasionally, but even if she doesn’t speak a lot the witcher can tell that she’s enjoying herself. As does Geralt.

There’s an odd, foreign feeling which makes his chest clench slightly, and he remembers sensing it last night at the tavern, as well. But his mind is peaceful right now. Right now, he doesn’t have to think about anything other than eating his lunch with Jaskier and their guests.

***

In the afternoon, they go to the village together. They check on Roach, buy a few things and then, as evening approaches, they go for a stroll on the beach and watch the sunset. The day after is pretty much the same and so is the day after tomorrow. Geralt wakes up in bed with Jaskier, he goes fishing with the other fishermen, he comes back with food for lunch while the bard spends his morning composing or visiting the village, but he’s always back before Geralt and he always greets him with a kiss on the lips. They prepare lunch together and spend the rest of the day in each other’s company, unless Geralt needs to catch more fish or help the other men with a particularly big animal. One day, they accidentally catch a shark and Geralt has to kill it before it knocks the boat over or hurts someone. They all celebrate at the tavern that night. He and Jaskier spend almost every night there (Geralt likes the ale, Jaskier likes to perform and Geralt also likes to watch Jaskier singing). After only a few days, the patrons have already learnt the bard’s songs and they always dance or sing along with him.

Before Geralt even realizes it, they settle into a routine. Sometimes, he still has that odd feeling. Sometimes his chest feels a little too tight, sometimes it’s like a strange knot or a twist in his stomach.

 _This isn’t the life of a witcher_ , he reminds himself. It’s almost scary how easy it is to forget that. It’s even easier with Jaskier, who smiles even more than he did before they arrived here. It’s easy to forget his worries, to forget how cruel the world can be, _fuck_ he has even forgotten what monsters’ blood smells like.

 _It’s dangerous_ , Geralt tells himself. But every day, he chooses to stay.

Then, something happens a few weeks after their first arrival at the house.

One evening they have a couple of guests over for dinner.

“Would you like more water, Berta?”

“Thank you, dear.” She extends her arm so Jaskier can fill her glass. 

Yesterday, Berta and Igor told the bard that once a week they like to take a day off and leave their son in charge of the tavern so he can learn the job properly. Jaskier immediately offered them to come and have dinner together tonight.

They’re good people and Geralt has to admit that he enjoys eating with them. During the conversation, Jaskier asked them how long they have been married and they both replied “too long” and then glared at each other. Geralt had to suppress a snort. He can feel that behind all that bickering there’s a profound connection between them. He knows that Jaskier feels it, too.

Jaskier and Berta spend most of the evening discussing about the local gossip like it’s very serious business. When they begin to exchange information and comment on the young people who they saw spending _a lot_ of time together, Geralt sees Igor roll his eyes and shake his head, as if he has already witnessed this too many times and has no intention of getting involved. Geralt can sympathize. They end up making a quieter, less agitated conversation of their own. Igor asks him about his new life as a fisherman and Geralt genuinely laughs, but he also says that he likes it, even though eating fish every single day is starting to get boring. The tavern owner nods, understanding, and then suggests that he goes to the woods, which isn’t far from the village, if he wants to hunt something different. It’s a good suggestion and Geralt thanks him.

After they have all finished to eat, Jaskier stands up to collect the dishes.

Berta stands as well. “Jaskier, let me help you.”

The bard holds up his hand to stop her. “No, no, you’re a guest, Berta. Don’t worry about it.”

“But I want to. Really, it became a habit for me after so many years of working in that tavern.”

“I understand, but I must insist. This is your day off, after all.”

“But–”

“Please, Berta, just sit down.” Igor rolls his eyes, exasperated.

His wife scowls at him, but eventually sits back on her chair, and the old couple starts bickering again.

Geralt quietly stands to help Jaskier like he usually does and takes the other dishes.

The bard smiles. “Thank you, darling.”

The witcher nods and then together they walk to the kitchen, but the main room remains within earshot and Berta’s voice reaches them.

“See? That’s what a good husband should do!”

Geralt will always, _always_ deny that he almost tripped and dropped the dishes as he heard that statement.

When he looks up and meets Jaskier’s eyes the bard blushes and– _fuck_ , Geralt can feel himself blush, too. But then, his little lark laughs and it’s the most beautiful sound in the world, the one which always makes Geralt relax. 

They wash the dishes and glasses together with the water they brought here earlier and a comfortable, familiar silence falls between them. 

And then, there it is again. That strange feeling. Something that wakes rapidly as well as unexpectedly inside him and it’s frustrating because he can’t name it. But, it’s not bad.

He absent-mindedly hands over the last dish so Jaskier can dry it.

“Done. Shall we go back to our guests?”

Geralt looks at him for a moment, not sure what he’s searching for. Maybe he wants to see if Jaskier feels something strange or out of the ordinary, maybe he should ask, but nothing looks different about him. Eventually, he just grunts and follows, a few steps behind the bard.

 _It’s not bad_ , Geralt repeats to himself, referring to what he’s feeling. _It’s just… a lot_. Every step he takes, his body feels heavier and lighter at the same time, the sound of familiar voices and laughter reaches his ears and he becomes suddenly a bit dizzy.

_It’s not bad. But, it’s…_

He freezes before he can reach the table.

Jaskier turns around and his face falls the moment he looks at Geralt. His blue, sparkling gaze is now filled with concern.

For a second, Geralt can only stare. Then, he storms out of the house.

Not knowing where to go, or even what the fuck he’s doing, he runs on the old dock. He hears someone call his name. He knows it’s Jaskier but he doesn’t stop. He can’t stop. The knot in his stomach has suddenly gone up to his throat and his chest clenches again, so he has to… he has to…

Before he can have time to think, he reaches the end of the dock and is left with only one option. So, he launches himself into the sea. If his cheeks were already wet before his face touched the water, well, no one can ever prove it.

Now, everything is still and calm around him. He lets himself sink like a rock, lets himself feel how the sea envelops him completely. Like that strange feeling.

He doesn’t know how long he stays under the water, but eventually he has to resurface. When he does, he gasps loudly as his lugs fill with air again and then he jumps on the dock.

“Geralt!”

Jaskier is at his side in an instant, gesturing wildly.

“Geralt, what happened? What’s wrong? Are you injured? Please, talk to me…”

Then, he looks up at the witcher’s face and freezes when the realization hits him. He opens his mouth to say something, but shuts it and then tries again.

Geralt can’t hear him, as if he’s too far away, even for his witcher senses. His amber eyes burn, and it’s not because of the seawater. Suddenly, he can’t hold it anymore.

“It’s… too much.”

Again, Jaskier stares at him, completely at a loss.

Geralt averts his gaze and clenches his jaw. He hates this. He’s not good with words and even less good at expressing how he feels. But _this_. This is…

“It’s too much, Jaskier.” Every fiber of his body vibrates as he murmurs those words. “Too much happiness. I don’t know what to do with it.”

When he finds the courage to look back at Jaskier, and only thanks to the light of the Moon, he sees tears filling his deep blue eyes and rolling down his cheeks.

He doesn’t even have time to take in that painful sight, because suddenly Jaskier throws himself at him and hugs him tightly. Immediately, Geralt’s arms wrap around the slender man and he buries his face in the crook of the bard’s neck.

“Shh. It’s all right. It’s all right, darling.” His little lark’s sweet voice reaches him as he strokes his white hair gently. “I’m so… so happy, too.”

“Jaskier…” His bard. His little lark. His _choice_. 

Geralt pulls away only slightly so he can look at him properly and gently cups his face before leaning forward to kiss his soft lips. And then, as they press their foreheads together, he whispers, “I love you.”

Jaskier makes an odd sound, like a mix of a chuckle, a yelp and a sob. “Oh, Geralt, I… I love you, too!”

Geralt feels his chest bloom, finally accepting what has been desperately trying to grow inside him, as he melts into the embrace and another kiss.

They stay like that for a while, simply feeling each other and breathing the same air. Then, Jaskier begins to tremble for the cold, and they walk back to… their _home_. 

Yes, that sounds nice.

When they arrive, there’s no one inside and Jaskier almost panics as he realizes how rude they must have seemed to their guests.

But then, Geralt finds a note on the table and picks it up to read it.

_Thank you for the lovely dinner. Please, enjoy yourselves and your young years while you can. And also the night, of course._

He smirks and hands it over to Jaskier, who then covers his face with both his hands and laughs. “Ah, Berta. Such a wise lady.”

“How do you know it wasn’t Igor who wrote it?”

Jaskier thinks for a moment. “Maybe they wrote it together. They’re both very nice and funny, I like them.”

Geralt silently agrees.

Then, his little lark takes a step closer and wraps his arms around the witcher’s neck. He smiles so sweetly and smells so good that Geralt can barely control himself before pulling him into a fervent kiss. 

Jaskier happily kisses back with the passion of a great lover and moans against his mouth when Geralt’s hands squeeze his ass. He autocamatically wraps his legs around the witcher’s waist when he’s lifted up by those strong arms.

Geralt makes a pleased sound as he takes him to bed, without breaking the kiss.

***

“I want to do this forever.”

Jaskier tells him softly, in a still sleepy tone, the morning after.

Geralt slowly opens his eyes and is met by the beautiful sight of his little lark’s sweet smile. The first ray of sunshine seeps through the window and curtains, creating an aura of light around Jaskier’s head. He makes no sound as he appreciates the view.

Geralt knows he’s not talking about staying in bed the whole day, like he has already tried to suggest before.

They both know it’s impossible. Nothing lasts forever.

But it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if one day Destiny will come to knock at his door, or worse, burst into his life before Geralt can realize it. He knows he won’t be able to escape, but there are also choices that he can make.

Yes, he’s afraid, because now he has a lot more to lose than he has ever had in his life before. But for the first time ever he’s truly happy and believes he deserves this happiness.

All he wants now is to be _here_ , _with Jaskier_. This is his choice.

And the more he looks at his little lark, the more he thinks he couldn’t have made a better one.

Geralt can’t promise that everything will always be like this, but he knows Jaskier understands.

So, he shifts closer to brush his lips tenderly against the bard’s. Then, he leaves a trail of soft kisses down his neck until he reaches the man’s hairy chest.

Geralt breathes in his sweet scent and buries his face there, while wrapping an arm around Jaskier’s waist to keep him close.

Not long after, he feels Jaskier’s hands coming up to caress his hair. His little lark kisses the top of his head and then smiles against it.

“Me, too.” Geralt mumbles against his beloved’s heart.

***

**The end**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! 
> 
> I've just completed my first AU!Geraskier and I'm so happy.  
> Thank you to everyone who followed me through this journey. I always love reading your comments, opinions and suggestions, they really motivate me!
> 
> And I'm already working on a couple of new AUs (but who knows when I'll be able to post them? Not me. Haha).
> 
> Meanwhile, thanks again, you wonderful fandom!
> 
> Yours truly,
> 
> candelina


End file.
